


The Next Great Adventure

by cumberbabeswillrise



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse, Blood, Cancer, Death, Depression, Fluff, Multi, Self Harm, Suicide, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-02-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 11:13:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1224163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cumberbabeswillrise/pseuds/cumberbabeswillrise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is struggling to stay alive. He has one way out: a gun. He says goodbye to his followers on tumblr, but never expects one of them to beg him to keep breathing. Love, loss, anger. It's all here. Destiel, sad. Warning. Yes, death is but the next great adventure, but you cannot go on unless you've experienced the prelude: life.<br/>KEEP POSTING. I love you all.<3</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Next Great Adventure

_ icantstophurtingeveryone _

_I think that this may be it. Life just doesn't seem worth living anymore. I fucked up. Every day of my miserable life I do something that just makes everything else worse. My brother's old enough that he'll get on without me. He'll be fine._

 

Cas Novak scrolled through his dash. It had been a long day, an even longer week. His heart stopped as he scrolled past icantstophurtingeverone's post. He'd been following him for a few months now, and Cas could tell that something bad was about to happen. Quickly clicking to his page, Cas clicked the ask button on icantstophurtingeveryone's page.

 

_ Ask:  _ _ icantstophurtingeveryone _

_I've noticed that you're struggling. Please, please, don't hurt yourself. Honestly, over the past few months your posts have been what I look forward to every day. Seeing your thoughts and personality that seems so much like mine, it has been helping me so much. I'll always be here to message and talk to you. I swear, if I don't see your posts... I don't know what will happen._

_ ~  forgivemysinsfather _

 

Dean stared at the gun in his lap. He had been for the past few hours, actually. It looked strangely malicious, yet comforting. After all the things he'd seen and done because of his father, Dean found a familiar comfort in his pistol. It had saved his life numerous times and now, it would end it. 

He was still staring at the gun when a small  _ ding  _ came from his laptop. Sighing, he put the pistol aside and opened his inbox.

Dean glared at the message. He didn't need to be saved. This person didn't even know what was going on in Dean's life.

 

_ Ask:  forgivemysinsfather _

_Look, man. You don't understand. You couldn't even begin to understand what I'm going through. I just want to feel happy again, and this is the only way I know how. Talk all you want, it's not going to change my mind._

_ ~ icantstophurtingeveryone _

 

_ Ask:  icantstophurtingeverone _

_I never pretended to understand you. I've been on the verge... I've done things to myself I never should have done. I'm sorry you feel this way, but I don't pity you. I just need you to know that I need you. Who you are, it's aided and abetted my own survival, and I'm sorry I could not do the same for you. Please, you said you had a brother. Don't you think that it would break his heart for you to go?_

_ ~ forgivemysinsfather _

 

Dean thought for a moment. What would Sammy do without him? Would John... hurt Sam like he had Dean? Surely not. Sam was fourteen now, he could take care of himself. He was going to go to college, unlike Dean. Dean couldn't leave not knowing if Sammy would be safe. Damn. Who the hell was this guy? Who did he think he was?

Sighing, Dean shook his head. Sammy would be better off. If Dean wasn't there, John wouldn't be drunk so often. Maybe John would sober up to take care of Sam.

 

_Ask:_ _ forgivemysinsfather _

_Sam would be fine. I'm sure of it. He's young, but he's strong. And look, man. It doesn't make any difference to you whether I live or die. You ain't got no affiliations with me, and I don't know your name. I gotta do what I want for myself this time. I can't keep worrying about everyone else._

_~_ _ icantstophurtingeveryone _

 

Cas scoffed. How do you help someone who doesn't want to be helped? Cas knew that it wasn't his place... but he couldn't sit idly by knowing that someone wanted to take his own life. He would never forgive himself if icantstophurtingeveryone's posts stopped showing up on his dash.

 

_Ask:_ _ icantstophurtingeveryone _

_Just because you think he's strong enough to handle the death of his brother doesn't mean that he is. I'm Castiel, by the way. Cas for short. How can you say you have to worry about yourself when your name specifically states that you worry about everyone else. Forgive me, but don't you worry about how they'll feel when you go? I know it's not my place, but I don't care. I don't want you to die._

_~_ _ forgivemysinsfather _

 

_Ask:_ _ forgivemysinsfather _

_Cas. Nice name. I'm Dean. I know that they'll be sad for awhile, but after six months, no one will remember the kid who committed suicide. I'll just be another side effect of life. It happens, people move on. Why can't you just understand that? I need to get out of here or I'm going to go crazy._

_~_ _ icantstophurtingeveryone _

 

Cas contemplated this for a moment. Should he let a young man, with many years and possible skills he possesses, kill himself? Or should Cas let Dean go mad, and allow him to wallow in his depression and self-pity for the rest of his life? Cas was doing the latter, and he handled it well enough.

 

_Ask:_ _ icantstophurtingeveryone _

_I personally know what it's like to be on the edge of that cliff. Not exactly, obviously, what with our situation possibly being different, but I've put the noose around my neck. It didn't work, and I'm still here. I can't say that I'm_ _**glad** _ _ that I am, but I do think that it happened for a reason. No one should be murdered, especially not by his own hand. I went crazy after I woke up in the hospital, I'll admit that. I struggle every day. I dream of digging a knife into my wrist almost every night, but then I think about how far I've come, and how far I'm going. I'm  _ _**alive** _ _ , and to be alive is such an amazing thing in itself. To die, as Albus Dumbledore said, would be an awfully big adventure. But what Dumbledore didn't tell Harry was this: dying is but the next adventure. You have to live in order to properly die, Dean. Perhaps you can take something from that. I hope you do, Dean. I hope you live. _

_ ~ _ _ forgivemysinsfather _

 

Dean sat back in his chair, tears rolling down his cheeks. He clenched his teeth, and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. Fuck Cas. Fuck this random dude and his fancy ass words. Fuck him for making Dean feel bad. 

“Dean?” Dean barely heard from the doorway. Dean turned around, and in one fluid motion, put the gun under the desk. “You okay?”

“Yeah, Sammy. I'm fine,” Dean coughed. Sammy moved tentatively toward him, looking awkward and uncomfortable. “What's wrong, brother?”

“Dad's passed out on the couch. He was yelling for you. I... I think he was pissed for some reason.” Sam sat down on the bed, looking around Dean's room, even though he already knew it by heart.

_ Shit.  _ Dean put his head in his hands. He was going to pay for that tomorrow. “It'll be fine, kid.” He put an arm around Sammy. “How you holding up?”

“Uhm. I guess I'm fine. School's fine.” Sam's hands were shaking. He was trying to hide them in his oversized sweatshirt, but Dean could see them trembling.

“Hey,” Dean whispered, grabbing Sam's hands in his own. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing. It's just,” Sam continued when he saw Dean's expression. “Dad got really mad the other day while you were at work. He... he got  _ really  _ mad.”

Dean shifted to the floor, looking Sam directly in the eye. “What did he do, Sammy?”

Sam's jaw trembled, then he lifted up his shirt. Deep bruises trailed Sam's chest and stomach. Dean's fists clenched by his sides. He looked up, and saw that Sam was crying. He was trying to hold the tears back, but was doing a bad job. He began sobbing and fell into Dean's chest.

“Shh... kid. I know. I know. I'm so damn sorry that I wasn't here, Sam. I didn't expect... I couldn't have dreamed that this would happen to you. Sammy, I should have been here. Please forgive me, kid.” He put Sam's head between his hands. “Don't let him bother you, Sam. I've got a few months until I'm eighteen, then I'm going to take us away from here. We're gonna get out, Sammy. Just give me some time.”

“Wait,” Sam gasped. “He did this to you, too? He's done it before? Dean, why didn't you leave?”

“My entire purpose on this earth is to protect you, Sam.” Dean felt a little pang in his chest as he thought about Cas' messages. He did have a reason to live, and his adventure was making sure Sam made it unmarked. “So, when I turn eighteen, I'm going to take you away. You're going to go to college, get married, pop out a few kids, and we're all gonna be happy. Okay, Sammy?”

Sam looked scared, his breathing was heavy and his eyes were blooming with terror. “Okay,” he whispered, though Dean could tell that he was freaking out.

“Go to bed, Sam. Keep out of his way. Do what you're told and keep your mouth shut. I can't protect you when I'm not here, so you're going to have take care of yourself. I promise, it will get better soon.” Sam nodded, then turned around and sulked back to his room.

 

_ Ask:  forgivemysinsfather _

_ You wanna know the deal? My dad's a drunk. He smacks me around, which I can deal with. I'm strong and in shape. What I can't deal with is the fact that I'm not strong enough to leave. I keep telling myself that in a few months I'm going to leave, but I don't think I can. Where the hell am I going to go? Now, I found out that he hurt Sammy. Sammy, of all people. He's the one with potential, with the straight A's and the perfect hair. John usually hits me, and I'm fine, as long as it's not Sammy. But now, now that I know he bruised my brother, I want to kill him. I won't just be satisfied with leaving with Sam. I don't think I'll be happy until he's dead, and I know that he died at my hands, Cas. I'm sorry to dump it on you, but you're the only one who seems to want to know. _

_ ~ icantstophurtingeveryone _

 

Cas could feel Dean's fear just as well as he could hear his mom and dad screaming downstairs. He turned his headphones up a little higher, but he could still hear them. He looked over at Anna in the corner, her hands clapped over her ears. 

“Anna, come here.” He gestured for her to come over to him. She looked up at him with her sad brown eyes, then scuttled over to him. She crawled into his lap and into his shirt, slapping her hands over her ears once again.

Cas held her close to him, feeling her ragged breathing. She shuddered against his chest, crying silently. She was only five years old, and she wasn't scared of the monster under the bed, she was scared of the banshees that slept in the next room. Technically, one slept in the basement. It depended on Mother's mood.

The house suddenly got quiet, and Cas knew that that meant they were making up. He groaned in disgust. He could feel Anna settling down so he carried her over to his bed. Immediately, she pulled the blanket around herself.

He picked up the phone.

“Hello?” Gabriel sighed on the other end.

“Take us away, Gabe,” Cas pleaded. Gabriel lived in New York, but Cas didn't care. He'd live in a closet if he had to. Anything to get away from here.

“I can't, Cas. I can't afford it.” Cas could hear Gabriel turn in bed.

“I'll get a job; I'll get two jobs. Please. It's just getting worse. They made Anna and I sleep at the shelter the other night so they could make love uninterrupted.”

“Ew,” Gabe spat. “I didn't need to know that. Cas, you don't have that much longer to stay. Move out when you turn eighteen, like Balthazar and I did.”

“I can't wait until then! Don't you see? I have to take Anna away, and if I'm going to school I can't take care of her at the same time.” Cas looked over to the sleeping ball of red hair. He couldn't leave her.

“And you think I can?” Gabe growled.

“With my help while working, yes. I'll work, I'll pay rent. We can raise her way better than they could,” Cas pleaded.

“Cas..,” Gabe groaned.

“Think about it.” He hung up.

 

_ Ask:  icantstophurtingeveryone _

_Dean, I know how you feel. Please forgive me for assuming that. No one deserves such a thing. I think that since you love Sam so much you'll be strong enough to take him away. I wish I had that ability. I need to take my sister Anna away, but my two older brothers won't help. My parents are real pieces of work, trust me. You should protect Sam. Always. He's the only thing you've got, and he'll stick by you if you stick by him. I'm not letting Anna go, whether Gabe and Balthazar help or not. You have to protect the ones you love, Dean. Even if it means sacrificing yourself, you have to make sure you did the best you could for them._

_I wish I could be more help. I wish I could take away your pain. I wish a lot of things, Dean, but unfortunately I don't have someone to grant those wishes for me. I have to be the master of my own fate. I can't just sit around anymore and let people take advantage of me, and neither can you. Protect the things you love._

_ ~ forgivemysinsfather _

 

Months passed by, and Dean and Cas continued to communicate. They were very much alike, though Cas was a bit more scholarly than Dean. If Dean could be perfectly honest, he would have been in love with Cas. 

Dean never dared to tell Cas such a thing, because he didn't want to scare him off. If only he knew what Cas' face looked like, and that he could hold him. He just wanted Cas. He wouldn't go looking, of course, that would be weird. But Cas' personality was alluring. He was smart, and funny, and he never told Dean anything but what was needed. Dean hoped that he did the same for Cas.

If Dean was ever to fall in love, it would be with a personality like Cas'. Whether Cas was really some creepy old dude behind a keyboard, Dean hoped he'd find someone with that personality, even if it was fake.

Bobby, Dean's uncle, lived in New York. He owned a mechanic shop that Dean could work in, so when Dean turned eighteen, he took Sammy with him to Bobby's. Sam worked, too, and they were much happier than they'd been with John.

Sam went to school, excelled in his AP classes, and did basketball after school, while Dean worked at the shop and went to classes at night. Things were finally going well.

 

_ Ask:  forgivemysinsfather _

_Cas. Things are going so much better. I'm going to school, so is Sammy. We're the closest we've ever been to happy. I gotta say, it's a wonderful change. I'm working with my uncle, and I think that I can really do good here._

_Thank you... for helping me. Thank you for talking me out of killing myself, because I would have done it. I was hell-bent on it, and I dreamed of it. My arms are scarred, along with my thighs and stomach. I... I can't even thank you enough. You're the closest thing that I've ever had to a best friend, Cas. Thanks, man, thanks._

_ ~ icantstophurtingeveryone _

 

“Pack your bags. I'm coming to get you guys. Your paperwork is going through as we speak and you're coming to live with me. You can take classes at NYU. I put in a good word. Anna is gonna go to kindergarten in a good school. I'll be there in four hours.” The five sentences that Cas had waited for. He could hear his parent fighting in the kitchen, but he couldn't help smiling. 

He threw everything he could into his suitcases and various bags. Anna's clothes dominated most of the bags, but Cas could care less. He was free. He'd escaped his four-walled prison and would soon be free from the unhappiness that had plagued him for years.

Anna was asleep on the bed, and Cas was careful not to wake her. She looked peaceful, like she somehow knew that they were finally leaving.

Gabe entered Cas' bedroom a few hours later, silently grabbing his bags and taking them back to his station wagon.

“I thought you'd have more stuff. I guess I forgot what it's like to live here. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, kiddo.” Cas ignored him as he carried Anna to the car. “Cas, please. I know it's taken too long for me to come and take you away, but... I can only hope that you will forgive me for it someday.” Their parents didn't even stop fighting long enough to notice that they were gone.

They drove in silence for the next ten hours. Anna woke up once, but then quickly fell back asleep. Cars had always been her weakness, easily lulling her into deep sleep and dreams.

 

_ Ask:  icantstophurtingeveryone _

_Dean, I'm so happy that you're happy. I got away, too. Gabriel came and took me and Anna away. I got a job at a coffee shop. I love it a lot. I meet a lot of new people. There's a lot of weirdo's out here. But, they're pretty cool. I never thought I would enjoy talking to a drag queen._

_There's this woman, technically she's a man, but she prefers 'she'. I hope that makes sense. I barely understand how gender identification works. I just call people what they want to be called. Anyways, she comes in every morning around three, she does a show every night! I went and watched it a few weeks back, it was pretty cool. I even got to do a show with her. I made four hundred bucks for singing a song. Not that I'd permanently choose it as a profession, but it was very interesting._

_Anna's doing pretty good. She loves school. I have to babysit her and her friends all the time, but I don't mind. Anna's always been the highlight of my life._

_I'm glad to know that Sam's good, and that you are too. You deserve to be happy and to live, not just survive. I hope you thrive._

_As for scars, I have them too. Same places, different reasons, but I get it. Don't thank me for talking you out of suicide. If you really wanted to die you would have. I do not think that you would have left Sam behind._

_ ~ forgivemysinsfather _

 

A couple of weeks later, Dean was walking to the library. He liked to go there after work to study. It was quiet, and quite large. He liked the way all the books looked as they glimmered in the dim light. 

He passed through the front gates, making his regular rounds through the shelves. He picked up a few books, and walked toward his regular table. As he looked up from the shelf, he noticed a young man sitting in his regular seat.

He looked disgruntled, with thick black hair that stuck up in the back and stubble on his face. Bright blue eyes reflected the computer screen in front of him as he hunched over the laptop. Dean frowned. Asshole, taking his spot.

Dean walked around the man and pushed through the rows to a table behind him. Angrily looking over toward him again, Dean noticed something.

_ icantstophurtingeveryone _ stared at him from the man's computer screen.  _ That was Dean's screen name. _ What the hell?

Hurriedly, Dean pulled his laptop from his backpack. He logged on and saw the green light pop up next to his name on the man's computer.

 

_ f orgivemysinsfather: Dean, what's up? _

Dean's breath caught in his throat.

_ i c antstophurtingeveryone: At the library right now. You? _

The man smiled at his computer, then began typing.

_ f orgivemysinsfather: Same here. I was planning on studying, but the Internet always seems to grab my attention. _

_ icantstophurtingeveryone: I know how that goes. It's odd how things escape your attention, though, huh? _

_ forgivemysinsfather:  What do you mean? _

 

Dean stood up from his chair, slowly walking toward the man. His breathing became almost shallow, and Dean was tempted to turn the other way and run. He put his hand on the man's shoulder.

“Cas?” he asked, his voice shaky.

“Do I know you?” the man asked him.

Dean sighed in relief. “Cas? It's me, Dean. I had no clue you lived in New York, man.”

Cas stood out of his chair. “Did you find me on purpose? How did you find me?”

“I-I didn't, man. I was sitting there and I caught my user name out of the corner of my eye. This is where Gabe moved you from? Bobby's up here, too.”

Cas smiled, then frowned. Then, he smiled again. Before Dean could react, Cas flung his arms around Dean. Smiling, Dean hugged him tightly back. They stood there for a few minutes, each of them processing the situation.

“You... wow. I can't believe this...” Cas brushed back his hair. Dean grabbed his stuff from his table and moved it to Cas'. “You know, I've seen you around. I just... I never would have guessed. This is crazy.”

“I know,” Dean laughed. “It's insane. Cas, do you think anyone would ever believe this?”

Cas shook his head. “I think they'd call us mad.”

 

 

 

 

 

They were mad. Crazy to do what they did. They spent a lot of time together. They met up almost every day to hang out, and talk about life, learning more and more about each other. They'd both held some feelings toward each other, but neither acted upon it. Until one day Fate acted for them.

“So, Fate, my drag queen friend. She's stopping by in a few. Wanna meet her?” Cas asked Dean as they ate dinner one night at a little sushi restaurant.

“Meet an awesome drag queen who can, from what you've told me, restrain a full grown man by her stiletto? Hell yes,” Dean smiled over his food.

“She's crazy. You'll love her. I mean, she's... amazing. There's no way to describe this woman,” Cas laughed, while watching Dean spill wasabi on his shirt. “Here.” Cas threw a napkin toward him.

“Thanks,” Dean muttered. He dabbed at his shirt for a few minutes before giving up on it. He tossed the napkin onto the table and sipped his Coke instead. “I'm tired, Cas.”

“Me too.” Cas smiled slightly. He definitely was tired. Work had been getting the better of him, Anna had, too. She just turned seven, and she was an even bigger handful than he'd expected. She never stopped talking, or moving, or anything. Gabe helped out, but Cas was her Father more than anyone else was.

“Hey, sweetie,” Fate called as she entered the sushi restaurant. She was dressed business casual, with her long auburn hair in a tall bun. “Who's this?” Next, she gasped. “Dean? Oh, my God! I've heard so much about you!” Fate leaned down and kissed him on the cheek before sitting.

“Really?” Dean smiled, turning toward Cas, who was red. “Good things, I hope.”

“Oh, of course! Cas thinks highly of you.” Fate winked toward Cas, who blushed even redder.

“Fate.” Cas glared at her, lovingly, of course.

“What? I just think it'd be really cute if you two got together and were happy and kissed a lot. But, hey, that's just me.” She pretended to look at her nails to avoid seeing the awkward looks being shared between Dean and Cas.

“Everyone's gotta have an OTP.” Dean laughed, taking a sip of his Coke. He winked at Cas, then awkwardly looked away again.

“Oh, god. I can feel the sexy. Come, on. You're both hot as hell, you obviously love each other. Get it oooonnnn.” Fate made a slight humping motion in her chair. “And then cuddle after, because you both deserve cuddles. Sorry, dears. I've got to go. I really am very busy.” Without another glance and the two boys, she flipped her blonde bangs back and walked out of the restaurant.

 

Needless to say, Cas and Dean did, in fact, get it on. From first kiss, it quickly became very sexual. Their relationship was much like their friendship, but with sex, and kissing, and cuddling.

It had taken awhile, but Dean and Cas were finally happy.  _ Happy.  _ It was a weird notion to consider. Happiness implied a good life, one with grand splendor and clouds to walk on, but Dean and Cas' lives were very much in turmoil. So often, in fact, was there a crisis, that it became normal to them. Hardly anything scared either of them.

Dean worked, went to school, then home. He took pride in his cars that he worked on, almost as much as he took in Sammy. Bobby was like a father to both Sam and Dean. Nurturing, though still a hard ass, Bobby Singer shaped the boys up and helped to ease the pain of the life they'd left behind.

Cas worked, went to school, then home, too. He studied hard and often, while balancing his sister's crazy schedule. She was seven, but she had dance recitals, hockey practice, and a variety of other things going on. Gabriel wanted her to be diverse, and placed her in many sports and extra curriculars. 

Cas demanded kisses, many and often. He loved to be kissed, to smell the grease and dirt that flowed off Dean's skin. If this is what heaven smelled like, Cas wanted to go now. 

“Do you think bears feel?” Dean asked, his head on Cas' lap.

“I think they feel hungry.”

“No, I mean, like, love and stuff. You read about bears taking squirrels for cubs and stuff. That's gotta be love, right?” 

“I suppose. I think love is cuddling even when it's one hundred degrees out and you're wearing parkas.”

Dean sat up and looked at Cas. “You're a nerd.” He kissed him. Again and again and again. It really was all that Cas needed. Ever.

 

 

Four years later, and Dean and Cas were still happy. Sammy was going to Stanford on full scholarship, to become the best damn lawyer in the country. Anna was in junior high at Julliard, learning to be a singer to rival all singers. Dean and Cas were still working their tails off, but it was worth it to watch their siblings thrive.

 

Dean woke groggily to the sunlight pouring into his corneas. He groaned and turned over onto his face. 

“Get up!” Dean felt Cas jump onto him, then begin jumping up and down. “Get up, get up, get up!”

“The hell, Cas? I'm sleeping. Sleep is good for you,” he slurred into his pillow.

Cas snorted, “You can sleep when you're dead, Dean Winchester. Fortunately for me, that won't be for awhile. So, get. Up. Now. Please.” He began jumping up and down more.

Dean sighed, the quickly spun around, pulling Cas' ankles out from under him. He caught Cas, rolled him off the bed, then pulled the blanket back over himself. 

Cas wouldn't take no for an answer. He leapt from the ground and back onto Dean, rolling so that he pulled Dean off the bed. Dean fell with a loud thud, groaning as he did so. Landing on Dean, Cas kissed his temple and mercilessly ripped the blanket off his partner.

Fake sobbing, Dean got up, defeated. 

“Finally. Now, come on! We have things to do today.” Cas sassily walked out of the bedroom and into their small kitchen. Dean happily watched Cas move about the kitchen, loose sweats hanging on his hips, muscles bulging as he reached for cups and silverware.

“I think we should just stay here all day.”

Cas turned toward him. “We did that yesterday.” He turned back around and began cooking eggs, humming under his breath.

“So?” Dean stepped forward, wrapping his arms around Cas' waist. 

“Ow,” Cas groaned, pulling Dean's arms off him.

“What's wrong, Cas?” Dean's eyebrows pulled together.

Cas quickly composed himself. “Nothing, I think my skin just pinched together,” Cas sniffed. He held his side for a few seconds, then turned around to take the eggs off the skillet.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” Dean stepped back to him, carefully setting his chin on Cas' shoulder, hands on Cas' waist.

Cas set the eggs down on the table in the small kitchen and plopped into the chair. He looked pale. Dean stared at him from across the table.

“What?” Cas growled.

“You sick?” Dean spoke through his hands, which were knotted in front of his mouth.

“I'm fine. Stop looking like that, you'll get worry lines.”

Dean narrowed his eyes. “Fine.” He left for work without another word. 

 

When Dean returned from the garage, Cas was gone. He'd be back in an hour or two from school, but Dean was too exhausted to wait for him.

He took of his jeans and jacket, opting for boxers and a t-shirt, the unspoken apparel of the Winchester/Novak house. Throwing them over the back side of the couch, Dean walked into the kitchen for some pie.

He liked to buy those small single serve Marie Calender’s pies, that way he didn't have to share. Cas didn't like pie, anyways. He started the oven and leaned against the counter, happily counting down the seconds until he could put his pie in. Dean glanced around the kitchen, thinking the he should probably clean it, then deciding he wouldn't, when he noticed the table.

The eggs. They were still on the table. They looked exactly the same as they had this morning. Cas loved eggs, he ate them by the dozen. They went through two to three cartons of eggs a week. He didn't even throw them away.

_Ding!_ Went the oven, and just like that, Dean forgot. 

 

Cas trudged through the door of his and Dean's apartment. Immediately, he dropped his bag by the door, and shed his pants and shoes. Picking them up, along with Dean's discarded clothing items, he carried them to the bathroom and put them in the hamper. 

He walked into the kitchen, though he wasn't very hungry. He noticed the plate of eggs on the table. Had he forgotten them there? Cas shrugged, he didn't care. He tossed them, then walked to his and Dean's room. 

Dean was passed out, his body lying diagonal on the bed. He had Cas' pillow in his arms, drool soaked. Cas frowned. He didn't have the energy to move Dean tonight. Moving to the closet, Cas snatched a blanket and extra pillow and deposited them in the living room. 

His stomach hurt. It had for the past few days, actually. He groaned quietly as he lay down on the couch. Cas was exhausted. Walking was exhausting, sitting was exhausting, studying was exhausting, eating was exhausting, painful, too. His head hurt. 

Cas sat up quickly, his stomach lurching. Throwing his blanket aside, he jumped up from the saggy couch and sprinted for the bathroom. 

Dean heard vomit. Vomit being vomited, that is. He quietly walked to the bathroom to find Cas shuddering over the toilet bowl. Dean sighed, then put a hand on Cas' shoulder.

“Dean, my stomach hurts.” 

“I know, babe, I know.” Dean rested his head on Cas' back. Cas was burning up. 

“There's blood,” Cas whispered. “I keep puking blood.”

Without another word, Dean grabbed went to the bedroom to get Cas some sweats and a sweatshirt. Cas leaned heavily on Dean's shoulder while Dean helped him into them. Dean all but carried Cas to the car.

“Dean, I wanna go home,” Cas groaned on Dean's shoulder.

“We gotta go to the doctor's, Cas. You could be seriously sick.”

“And if I'm not, we'll waste a bunch of money we don't have.” 

Dean sighed. Cas was like this. He didn't let anyone help him out. He always had to be the savior. “Cas, shut up and try not to puke. We're going, and that's that.”

 

Cas woke up in the ICU.

It was loud. The monitors beeping, people crying, doctor's shouting orders. Cas could hear it through the curtains. His head felt fuzzy. 

“Oh! You're awake! Good!” a nurse smiled as she pushed through the curtain. “I'm Meg, by the way.”

Meg moved around him to check the many tubes entering and leaving his body. 

“What's wrong with me?” he asked groggily, his voice rough.

Meg's smile faltered, “Uhm, you wanna see your boyfriend? They wouldn't let him in since he's not family, and you weren't awake to let him in.”

“Yes, please.”

Dean walked in looking awkward and out of place. He gave Meg a smile, then turned to Cas. His face was a mixture of joy and pity. Cas knew then and there that he was very sick.

“Hey, babe. How you feelin'?” Dean sat down next to the bed, lacing his fingers with Cas'.

“What's wrong with me?” Cas croaked. His chest hurt.

“We can talk about it later. First, let's focus on getting you into some better clothes. I'm the only one who gets to see your butt.” He fingered the flimsy hospital gown. Meg giggled as she walked out.

“Dean...” Dean pulled Cas up anyways and started stripping him down. It took a bit longer than he'd expected because of all the tubes that were connected to Cas.

“What's wrong with me? I'm sick, yeah?” Cas stared into Dean's eyes, which were pointedly staring at the wall behind Cas' head.

“Yeah, you're sick. But you're going to get better, so what's it matter?” he stuttered. Dean was messing with Cas' disguarded hospital gown. He only messed with things when he was nervous.

“Dammit, Dean!” Cas yelled, slamming his hand down on the bed. “What the hell is wrong with me?” 

“Cancer. Okay? You've fucking got cancer. In your stomach, your lungs, your lymph nodes, your fucking back. You lit up like a god damn Christmas tree, Cas.” Dean choked, tears welling up in his large green eyes. “You're sicker than a dog.”

Cas laid his head back onto the pillow, avoiding Dean's eyes. His chest felt heavier. It made sense now, the stomach pain, the difficulty breathing, puking blood, losing weight. He had cancer. He was going to die.

“I'm going to die,” Cas stated.

“What?” Dean grabbed Cas' hand. “No. No, we're gonna do everything we can, Cas. You're  _ not  _ dying.”

“I wasn't asking, Dean. I know I'm going to die. It's cancer, and this kind is dangerous. What stage did the doctors say I was in?”

Dean's gaze turned toward the ground. “Four.”

“Exactly,” he coughed, then pulled Dean's hand into his chest. “I'm okay with dying.”

“Well, I'm not okay with it!” Dean's expression was wild. “You're not gonna die. You're gonna go through chemo, be bald for a bit, then you're gonna get better and start a freakin' charity or somethin'. You're not gonna fucking die on me, Cas.”

“Okay,” Cas leaned away from Dean, “Okay, I won't die.”

Dean sat back in his chair, then rested his head on Cas' bed. Within a couple of minutes, Cas could feel his breathing slow, and he knew Dean was asleep.

Cas would often feel Dean staring at him. Cas wore a cannula now and found it very difficult to move around. Dean would sit on the opposite end of the couch from him, drinking a scotch and staring. Forever staring, like he was watching Cas die. 

In a way, he was. They were putting Cas through experimental chemo, and neither of them knew how it was working. Cas threw up all the time, his hair all fell out, and he slept more than he was conscious. 

Dean drank. Often and more than Cas ever knew was possible. It was like if Cas was going to die, Dean wanted to go too. 

“Dean, you have to stop! Stop this. I'm going to be fine! That's what you said to me, remember? Remember?” Cas yelled one night as Dean lay passed out on the couch, his shirt soaked in vomit. Cas cradled his head in his bony hands and stroked Dean's hair. “Dean, please.”

“Shut up, Cas,” he groaned, pushing Cas roughly off the couch. Cas' head rocked against the coffee table, his cannula pulled out of his nose as it caught around Dean's hand. He tried to breathe, or yell. He tried to get Dean's attention, but Dean was too far gone to hear, so Cas eventually slipped into unconsciousness.

 

“CAS? Cas? Cas, babe, please. Please wake up,” Dean sobbed over Cas in the ambulance. He'd woken up to find Cas in a pool of blood, the cannula entangled in his own hand. 

“How'd this happen?” the EMT asked while moving all around Cas' head. He was breathing, but they weren't sure if he'd had any significant damage done to his head.

“I-” Dean stammered, “I was asleep, I think I may have pushed him off the couch. I don't know... I just woke up...”

“Okay, it's okay.” the kid coaxed Dean, still looking at him like Dean was the bad guy.

 

“Where's Dean?” Cas croaked. 

“Oh, he's just outside, sweetie. Want me to go get him?” Meg dabbed a wash cloth over his forehead.

“Well, yeah. Please,” Cas coughed. His lungs hurt. Fuck. 

“Cas, babe.” Dean ran immediately to his side. “I am  _ so  _ sorry. I never thought... I didn't mean to! I was drunk... I was stupid. Oh, God,” Dean gasped, “I sound just like my dad. Holy shit, Cas. I'm so sorry.”

“It was an accident. It's fine. I'm not dead, am I?” Cas was kind of pissed, but he was fine, if you didn't count the cancer. 

Dean's eyes were filled to the brim with tears. He looked like he was having trouble breathing. “You've been out for a week. I didn't think you were going to wake up...” 

“Of course I would. I'm a fighter, remember?” Cas smiled weakly at him.

“I do. I have to go. I told Sammy I'd meet him for dinner with Jess. I'll be back in two hours tops, okay?” Dean kissed Cas' hands gently, then held them close, waiting for Cas' answer.

“Yeah, go. Have fun.” 

 

“Castiel?” Doctor Harvelle whispered as she pushed through his curtain, “How you feelin'?”

“Head hurts, but I'm fine.” Cas smiled.

“I have some news for you,” she smiled big, her brown eyes looked so happy.

Cas stared at her expectantly, so she continued, “It seems that the treatment we put you on worked. There are no signs of cancer in your body whatsoever.” 

Cas sighed. In relief. His lungs felt lighter, all of a sudden. “None? I'm okay?”

“You're good as gold, but you'll have to wear the cannula. You're lungs are pretty damaged.”

Cas was fine with that. He was perfectly fine with that. Holy hell, was he fine with that. Six months he'd raged with cancer, and finally, he was going to be okay.

 

“You pushed him?” Sam asked, his eyebrows raised. “Why?”

“I don't know, man,” Dean growled angrily over his plate. “I didn't mean to. I was drunk. I don't really even remember doing it.”

“Dad didn't either.”

“Well, I'm not Dad. I never hit you, and I never hit Cas. It was an accident. I swear, I'd never... he's the only person I've got besides you, why would I do something like this?” Dean rubbed his temples. He needed a drink.

“Maybe you shouldn't drink so much, then. Cas needs support. You're not giving him any by passing out on the couch every night.” Sam raised his eyebrows again. What a dick.

“It's the only way I can look at him without seeing him in a coffin. One second,” he put up a finger. “Cas? You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. See, that's the thing! I'm  _ okay! _ ” Cas' voice was near giggling. He'd probably messed with his pain meds again. The last time he'd done that, Cas giggled himself almost into a coronary.

“What do you mean, okay? Cas, let me talk to the doctor.”

“No! Dean, you're not getting what I'm saying. I'm  _ okay _ . Like, one hundred percent okay!”

Dean's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat. “No more cancer?”

“No more cancer!” came the voice at the other end.

“No more cancer. No more cancer,” Dean repeated to himself. “No more cancer. Babe, I'll meet you at the hospital. I'll be there in twenty.”

Dean said goodbye to Sam, yelling, 'no more cancer!' all the way to his car. 

The road looked happy, the trees looked happy. Even in the deep darkness, everything looked happy, whole, and content. Just like Dean, they seemed to have pushed through the bad days and were looking forward to the new. 

“I got sunshine, on a cloudy day,” Dean sang horribly, his voice happy and ecstatic, even though it sounded like a dying pig. 

Things were finally looking up. Dean heard a blare of noise, and turned just in time to see a semi barreling at him full speed. He hardly had any time to gasp before the tons of metal slammed into his Impala. Then, he was flipping. 

_ Once, twice, three times. _ He counted. Finally, he stopped rolling.

Blood poured down his head and into his eyes. The seat belt held too tightly against his chest, and Dean could feel every broken bone he knew he had. His vision blurred.

Dean reached into his pocket to dial Cas' number, forcing his eyes to stay open. He could distantly hear sirens, but he knew they'd be too late.

“Dean?”

“S-ssorry,” he slurred.

“Are you drunk?” Cas sounded worried.

“No. I'm off, babe. I'm off into a new adventure.” Black spots were forming in front of Dean's eyes.

“Dean, where are you? I'll come get you. I'll call Sam.”

“'won't get here in time,” Dean held back a sob. “I love you, Cas. I'm sorry. I couldn't be what you needed. I'm sorry.”

“Dean...” Cas was crying.

“Don't cry,” Dean's voice was slurring too much. There was too much blood in his mouth. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Cas sobbed. 

“To the next adventure,” Dean chuckled softly, coughing.

“I wish you good travels.”

“I love you,” Dean whispered.

“I need you. I love you. Hold on, Dean,” Cas sobbed even harder. He could hear how garbled Dean's voice was. He was going to lose the only thing keeping him alive.

“'love... you...”

 

The driver that had hit Dean was drunk. He was eight points higher than the legal limit. He had two kids, a wife who had just left him, and his name was Jerry. He pleaded guilty to vehicular homicide, and served zero jail time. 

Dean, meanwhile, had been eight days sober. Since his incident with Cas, Dean had thrown out every bottle of alcohol in the house, even the cold medicine. He had turned their house into a haven for Cas. He'd neatly arranged the oxygen tanks so Cas could get to them easier, and scrubbed each and every inch of the kitchen. Twice.

Cas attended the funeral in complete silence, except for his eulogy.

“I first met Dean when we were seventeen. He lived in a broken home, and he had a broken spirit. He wasn't going to make it to eighteen, and he knew it. Dean told me often that I was the reason he didn't end it, but that's a lie. Dean is the reason why I didn't end it, and he's the reason that I'm still alive today. Dean was always stronger than me, faster, a better thinker, but I didn't really care. He was charming, and charismatic, and awkward. I fell in love with him faster than I ever thought could be humanly possible. I fell hard. Each and every day I spent with Dean Winchester was falling, over and over again, in love with an impossibly wonderful human being. The stupid tunes he sang while cooking were the only songs I wanted to hear. Now, that's all I hear. I see him in our bedroom, lying diagonally across the bed, refusing to move unless I force him. I smell him in the streets and the grass. He constantly smelled like a mixture of gasoline and dirt, and it was utterly alluring. I feel him in me. I feel his hand in mine, and I feel his soul in my heart. He won't leave, and I would never ask him to. I taste him in the scrambled eggs I eat every morning for breakfast. Pepper and salt, mixing in my mouth and blowing my mind, constantly. Dean died rushing to my side. He died because he was happy to see me healthy again. I don't blame Jerry Michaels for killing Dean. I know Dean wouldn't have wanted it. He'd have understood that sometimes life is hard, and you often fall prey to the bottle. I can't say the right words to express his life, because there are none. He is gone, and we're not. He's off on the next adventure, and we're still here. He's gone because he is needed for his glory, and he is patiently waiting for us to join him. And, I know he is praying that none of you will come too soon.”

 

Cas never really got over Dean. He was twenty eight and the love of his life had come and gone. In a blink of an eye, Dean changed everything, and he took all the good things with him when he left. For awhile, Cas didn't know how to go on. He cried often, ate even less, and slept more than he had with cancer.

He got on with life, though. Anna got married, had some kids. Her son, Dean, married a lovely young lady named Molly Winchester. Cas was never truly whole after Dean. Some parts of him never came back. He died, eventually, of the same cancer that had ravaged him forty years before, in his own bed, surrounded by his family. 

After he finally shut his eyes, the blackness washed over him. He opened them again, one last time, he thought, but what he saw wasn't his family. 

“Hey, babe.” Dean's young smiling face was in front of him. 

“Dean?” Cas reached out to touch him. His hand was no longer the gnarled, wrinkly thing it had been a few minutes ago. It was tan and muscular again.

“I have missed you,  _ so _ much.”

“We're off on an adventure, aren't we?” Cas smiled.

“The best one you'll ever have.” 

 


End file.
